The Last Morning

The Last Morning, 16, 2020

I couldn’t sleep all night and after what seemed to me to be a ten-second-cat nap, I became mesmerized by the beautiful periwinkle sky outside your window. Just when I found it in me to stop twisting and turning and settle into my normal semi-conscious, light sleep, the birds started chirping so loudly. It’s almost like they had a message for me. I turned to see you sleeping in what appears to me to be the farthest corner of your apartment but in reality you are just an arm reach away. We are as far away from each other as two people can be in a queen size bed.

The crack in your ceiling seems to be a little bigger than it was the last time I was here but maybe not. I never really noticed, never really cared. I did notice what seemed to be a new picture actually I noticed it a long time ago but I didn’t want to ask about it. I don’t want to ask anything anymore, I am almost scared to talk around you equally as scared to talk to you. Scared of what I will say and scared of what I convey when I am not speaking. Like when I pull away from you when you mention certain things.

Looking out the window, I finally see the birds that have been chirping so damn loudly for what seems like an eternity. I see that I am like this one bird that keeps hopping from branch to branch. I never want to settle down and be in one particular spot for too long until I’m sure there is something worth my while there. We do a lot of reminiscing between the two of us but this morning I realize that memories are really all we have.

Your head is the only thing peeking out from this French blanket that is suffocating the shit out of me. But without it, I feel like I am exposed and you can read all my thoughts. However, I know that you don’t give a shit because you are on the farthest end of the bed fast asleep and snoring loud as hell. Kind of like Beau. So I clutch the blanket because presently it’s a small comfort to me. The whole night I have been tossing and turning because I needed to be held and you didn’t give that to me. You rarely do . . .

This morning I gulp down air and release it slow and methodical. I fake yawns and hold tears in so hard I feel dizzy. So dizzy my stomach hurts from the meal of sorrow I force myself to eat every time I hook up with you. Our situation, which is no different from before except you have a girlfriend now and only really call when it is convenient for you, makes me physically sick. You made your final decision didn’t you? So let me go on record for saying that you hurt me and you have yet to stop.

Maybe I would feel slightly differently about it in the moment if you would at least carry through. The little kisses, the sharing, the holding you know all the stupid gushy shit guys are supposed to do to make us women not feel like some grimy whore from up the road. If we already did the worst part, what difference does it make if you add those fine details? The difference being those fine details transform physical encounters into emotional adhesive. They are like little silent notes that you care. An indication that if I didn’t look and feel this way, you would still be there for me. An indication that I am a priority.

So on this loud silent morning, I have forced myself to stop retreating.

Rewind to when we had dinner right downstairs. This morning for the first time I force myself to think about how one word, “yes” would change me to you and you to me. It wasn’t right in my spirit. To be the woman that I want to be for my man I knew I needed time. I hesitated because at that point I knew that I loved you and I thought you deserved more than I could give. I hesitated because I preferred at that point to wait until I knew without a doubt that I could give you all I have and make every effort to give all that I didn’t have. I waited because I didn’t want to leap in full speed ahead and end up hurting you by running back to his arms because I never gave it the necessary amount of time to close the door shut. Like you and I. You moved forward pretty quickly and that’s totally cool but that’s not me because I gel deep with those I care about so I can experience everything with them. I guess we just have different depths of water and once again that’s cool. I also think it’s the relationship I wanted to have with you. I needed you to feel my soul so I waited until I was ready for that.

Rewind to what you did for me…the gift to be outside of myself, the responsible Javi with the boyfriend. I always had a boyfriend at some point in my life. It’s like one day I woke up and just didn’t want one. I love John but I couldn’t do the whole put-my-life-on-hold-and-go-out-but-never-go-on-a–date-because-I-have-a-boyfriend-that-is-down-south-pursuing-a-PHD-so-we-can-have-a-perfect-life-thing anymore. But a person’s pattern is a person’s pattern. So I fled right to you and I fell into you and I wrapped myself up in you and I never wanted to let you go until you asked me and I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I knew deep down inside I wasn’t ready to be what I had to be all over again and I was scared.

I am not scared to sky dive 1500 feet. I am not scared to quite my lucrative job to pursue a career for which there are no guarantees and is based on something I happened to be born with because my parents were selective about each other long before I was a conscious thought and all my years in supposedly elite preparatory educational institutions really isn’t worth shit. I am not scared. I am not scared to move to another continent all by myself because it’s where my heart wants to be but when it comes to love, I am scared shitless. I am scared to admit that I like someone. Scared to move past casually dating to exclusively seeing. Scared to open up and scared to reveal the reasons for my tears. And now experiencing you post “us”, I am scared as hell that after finally getting over my incessant fear and deciding to trust someone who I believe to be beautiful all the way around the fuckin’ bastard would turn around and cheat on me.

So add the obnoxious alarm clock to the birds chirping so close to my damn ear and not only do I understand now that I can not sleep, I realize I wont be allowed to think in peace. You shot up and hit the alarm and ran into the bathroom. I have just got to get out of here. I am telling myself while you are in the bathroom and that expression is true of both my physical and emotional state. So I spring up a few seconds after you, throw my clothes on, and make your bed.

The bed I have slept in so many times but haven’t felt comfortable in since the beginning of last summer. The bed that I have fallen into you and dared you to do the same. The bed I felt comforted by you so many times but never told you. The bed I used to never want to leave. I remember one morning I woke up and I was holding your hand waiting for you to wake up so I can say that I am ready to try this and I’ll give up my friendship with him because I want to make you happy because I knew this would make you happy first thing in the morning. But when you woke up, words escaped me and tears came in their place because I knew I wouldn’t say it and the only thing I could do was go to the bathroom so you wouldn’t know something was wrong.

This morning I know why I can’t sleep well here anymore. This bed just isn’t us anymore. You roll around in this bed with another woman. Deep inside my heart none of this is me. I am not the kind of person that can do this and not be affected by it. The whole vibration in here gives me nightmares and the worst case of insomnia. I lied to you earlier, it is your bed.

It also dawns on me that we have random things we want to experience together that we never had the chance to before. Or at least I can admit that I do. But this morning I realize that any of our experiences can never be beautiful under the circumstances and though at times I think you can be an asshole I still want to preserve my most beautiful memories of you so it’s best to stop now. We are not friends. This morning. You know and I know and I can’t when you have her. So I guess that makes me an awful friend.

Fast forward to me flying around the apartment that used to feel like my apartment trying to collect all my things. It really doesn’t matter because I know you will do a sweep through to make sure I got everything before we leave anyway. Fast-forward to me wanting to leave without saying good-bye telling myself this is my out and this is how all things have to end. Quick, abrupt and blunt with no looking back. At least that’s how they have to end if you want to move forward to new things and not let the weight of an old situation keep you immobile. This is how it has to be. This is how it should be. Maybe I should at least wait for your shower to run so you won’t hear me leave. But once again I am helpless, almost frozen, like a deer in some asshole’s annoying glaring headlights. So I say your name and it comes out weak at first because that’s the way everyone’s words come out first thing in the morning. I clear my throat and try again.

Fast forward to us leaving the apartment together. Fast forward to our train ride when you asked me why I wanted to leave. Sorry for that dismissive response full of unnecessary attitude. At least now your question has just been answered.

Every time we get together we avoid the fat ass elephant in the room. We circumvent it. We talk around it and occasionally brush by its tail but at the end of the day it remains a pervasive yet habitually ignored presence in the room.

Rewind briefly back to your apartment when you were removing all evidence that I was there. I was right after all but shit, don’t you know anything about me? I am soft, pink and sensitive inside. Could it be possible that you don’t even care one pinch?

Fast forward to our train ride with the baby: so precious, so cute. You were so good with him. It was something about him and you and him asking about you when you had been long gone. It made me semi-fall into you all over again. The way I fell into you the first time I came over and the way I fell into you while you were waiting with me in Port Authority for my bus. The way I fell into you in the elevator after having been on bad terms. The way I realized this morning that I don’t ever want to fall into you again.